


Hallucinations

by Nyxie



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxie/pseuds/Nyxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'A small laugh escaped his lips, barely a soft chuckle, and he croaked, "But you're not really there, are you? You're just a hallucination."</p><p>Pete shook his head, reaching up to place his hand on Mikey's cheek. "N-no," He said softly back, "I'm right here, Mikey. Really."'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallucinations

_Pete could literally feel the heat radiating off Mikey as he helped - although he might as well say carried, since they were halfway there - him to the bed, one arm firmly wrapped around his waist to support him and catch him when his weak legs decided to collapse beneath him._

_They reached the bed and he fell onto it, letting Pete grab the blankets and pull them over him, although he wouldn't have had enough strength to protest even if he had wanted to. Mikey looked terrible; his face was pale, glossed over with sweat, and his body was shaking despite the fact he was burning up. The classic signs of a fever, Pete knew, and he knew that was what was ailing Mikey._

_Turning, he began to move back toward the door. "Okay, I'll just be out here, Mikey, so if you need m-" He was cut off as Mikey's hand snatched his wrist - the fastest movement he had seen the sick man make all day - and froze mid-turn._

_"No. 'M cold. Stay," He mumbled, face half buried in the pillows. He made a feeble attempt to pull Pete back toward him, although it was little more than a slight tug._

_He turned again, taking a small step forward, "Mikey, I can't-"_

_"No!" He said again, his voice raised a notch. His hand slipped down from Pete's wrist to his hand, long fingers clumsily wrapping themselves around and squeezing it. Coughing a few times, he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper, "Stay. Please, Pete."_

_Sighing, he turned and walked back over to the bed, slipping in next to him. Almost immediately, Mikey wrapped an arm around him, pressing his chest against his back and resting his chin softly on his shoulder. Pete was about to open his mouth and say something, but he noticed how relaxed Mikey was - probably the most relaxed he had been since he got here - and kept his mouth shut. Within minutes, Mikey was asleep, only the sounds of soft and slow breathing filling his ears._

And that was how he had wound up here, lying in bed with Mikey asleep next to him. He wasn't sure how long he had been lying here - an hour, at least - but to be honest, he really didn't mind all that much. Even when Mikey lay on top of him, he tried not to shift too much, despite Mikey being heavier than he looked and his pointy joints digging into him. His mind only wandered to Gerard and Frank and Ray, who were out for the night, a few times, and he had to admit, he grew used to it after a while. The rhythmic sound of Mikey's breathing next to him, the occasional shift in his position...

Now they were facing each other, faces so close he could feel Mikey's breath hit his face every now and then. He found his eyes wandering the sleeping mans face, which had a very peaceful expression upon it, like most sleeping people. He was aware of how easily, if he wanted to, he could kiss him, right now, on the lips. He would just have to lean forward, and even though he'd probably end up sick just like Mikey, the risk of it wouldn't be much more than what it already was.

But of course he couldn't kiss him. He was asleep, and this wasn't the tale of a sleeping beauty magically awoken by a kiss from the prince. Besides, what's the point in kissing someone if they don't know you did it?

He blinked out of his thoughts, and a moment after he did so Mikey's eyes slid open, although he didn't quite look like he was with the world. A smile twitched at the corners of Pete's mouth.

"Hey Mikey," He said in a quiet voice, as though he was talking to a child, "Feeling better?" A small groan, and he shook his head, although his bleary eyes still stayed on Pete's face. 

"You look pretty," He said, then paused. A small laugh escaped his lips, barely a soft chuckle, and he croaked, "But you're not really there, are you? You're just a hallucination."

Pete shook his head, reaching up to place his hand on Mikey's cheek. "N-no," He said softly back, "I'm right here, Mikey. Really." He felt the droplets of sweat beneath his hand, and almost expected them to start sizzling against the heat of his face.

Mikey's eyes looked down at Pete's hand, and he rested his own palm on it. He watched his eyes - which, behind the cloud of sickness, showed a hint of disbelief - as he ran his hand down Pete's arm, then toward his face, the tips of his fingers ghosting over his skin. They explored the side of his face, from his browline to his cheekbone, from his jaw to his chin. His fingers only ever brushed his skin, never fully pressed down on it, until he finally seemed satisfied that Pete was real and rested his hand on Pete's on cheek, mimicking what he had just done.

A groggy smile touched his mouth, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he said, "So you _are_ real."

Pete nodded, and the urge to kiss him returned, stronger than before this time. Not anything more, just to kiss him. Those smiling lips that had - and this only really hit him now - just called him pretty. But Mikey was sick, and probably not in his right mind, and maybe Pete was just a bit of a wimp.

So he didn't.

Instead, Mikey kissed him.

He was so caught up in trying _not_ to kiss him that he didn't realize what was happening at first. Suddenly two lips were pressed against his own, and he almost drew back in surprise. Blinking a few times, he tried to calm his now racing thoughts. Closing his eyes might be a good start. Mikey's lips were hot and feverish, bound to leave behind the salty tang of sweat, and there was little power behind the kiss. But it was a kiss, and it was Mikey kissing _him_. _Him._

Mikey pulled back again, exhaling. He smiled lop-sidedly at Pete, whose heart was racing so fast he was afraid it might stop and his lungs just couldn't seem to suck in enough air. As though oblivious to the surprise in Pete's eyes, Mikey moved closer to him, resting his head in the crook of his neck, his lips brushing Pete's skin and nearly making him shudder all over. Instinctively, Pete reached out and placed his arms around his waist, drawing him in a little more. He wasnt sure why, and maybe he would question it later, but for now his thoughts were flashing by too fast to register, the smell of Mikey's hair, grimy and sweaty and still hinted with an apple scent, flooding his senses.

Within minutes, Mikey was asleep. And at some point Pete must've dozed off too, because the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by Patrick, who had come over to see if he was ready to come back. Dragging himself out from under Mikey, who had once again rolled onto him, he nodded, and the two left the room silently - although not before Pete's fingers flitted over Mikey's warm cheeks one last time.

As he had thought, he did end up getting sick. A blocked nose, coughing, the fever, all of it. He drove the others crazy, because when Pete Wentz got sick, he got didn't just get a few of the symptoms - he got the whole sha-bang. But it didn't matter, because there was one person who was willing to take care of him that, fortunately for the others, couldn't get sick. 

That person went by the name Mikey Way, and despite what his sickness plagued mind would like to lead him to believe, he was in no way a hallucination.


End file.
